Letters to Kate
by Pygmy Pandazilla
Summary: After Kate's funeral, the team writes letters to their dearly departed friend to say their last goodbyes
1. Hugs and Caf-Pow Kisses

Dear Kate,

It's been a week since I last spoke to you. I guess that's the nice way of putting it. Making you sound like a friend that went away is a lot better than accepting that you died. That you were killed. It's sucks to accept, it sucks that I don't have you here to give me hugs and talk to me when I'm hurting or when I have issues. All we ever really talked about was me, whenever you came down to the lab. That, or the victim. I wished we talked about you, Kate. I know that you had brothers, and I know that you worked in the secret service, and I know that you dated Tony's frat brother, but we never really talked about _you_.

I miss you Kate. A lot. Ever since your funeral nothing has been the same. Gibbs hasn't been as lighthearted, and Tony acts normal until he realizes that you're not there. McGee has been wracking his brain trying to figure out if there was anything he could have done. Ari tried to kill him first, but when the terrorists in the building started shooting he moved just as the bullet was shot.

I really wished it wasn't you who died. I wish nobody would have died. I love our little family and it hurts to have one of us, my sister, taken away. I'm glad that Ari died. I'm glad that you were avenged. But out of everyone on the team, you're the only one getting any sleep.

I know you wouldn't want me crying. I know you wouldn't want us sad or angry or blaming ourselves, but I can't help it. I try to think of all the good, like when we first met. The look on your face when you realized that I was a forensic scientist for NCIS was priceless. Our little hat scam, our spa date, and all the times where you listened to me rack my brain about the whole McGee thing. I truly was hopeless at this whole thing, wasn't I? I couldn't even figure out if I liked McGee enough to tell him that. I could even find the time to tell you that I loved you Kate.

I'm sorry things turned out this way, Kate. And I'm sorry I never really got to know the real you. If I had one more day with you, one day to see you just _one more time_ , I would learn everything. I don't even know your zodiac sign. I remember you saying your birthday was in September, so I assume you're a libra. But I never really will know. I wish we had more time. I wish I could see you again.

I wish your funeral never happened.

I guess I should stop writing now. I've cried enough writing it. I was hoping it would give me some closure, writing this out, but it hurts like it always will. I know you'll never read this, and that hurts a little more. My last words to you were "I never cry, Kate, never ever, ever." I was wrong. I'm crying now.

I'll always miss you Kate. At least we have the memories.

Hugs and Caf-Pow kisses, with eternal love and friendship,

Abby


	2. With Admiration and Adoration

Dearest Caitlin,

I am an old man. I have seen many things. I have witness the death of many people I cared about and I have autopsied some of my closest companions over my years on this planet. But with old age came the naïve and careless mind that came with hope of never seeing another friend cross my table. I thought with this job, the death rate of friends would be lower than it seems to be now.

It was exactly nine minutes past ten o'clock when I walked into autopsy. It was another minute before I could gather the courage to open that body bag and see you laying there so still.

At first, you could almost imagine you were sleeping. You were so peaceful. Your eyes were closed and there was a grace to you that resembled someone resting after a long and tiring day. A look of pure exhaustion that seemed to have melted almost completely away after you closed your eyes. From what Tony had said, however, your eyes were wide open when you had passed. They were staring into nothing, glazed over with the eyes of death.

I know that you wouldn't want pain to fall upon your friends. You're the type of woman who was guarded about the people she cared for. You would be happy you're dead, since the alternative is one of your loved ones being instead. Your compassion showed no bounds. The look in your eyes, the hopelessness in your voice when Tony had been sick. You truly were a goddess amongst mere mortals, my dear. I wish that you were immortal like one as well.

The only solace I get is know that the bastard that killed you is dead as well. He had come across my table, as well, but I was on the flight for your funeral. I wasn't able to do the autopsy. But I came in before the flight. I looked at his cold, heartless eyes, knowing that someone, even if not me, was finally going to weigh his liver.

The really devastating part about death is that there is no second chance. In this world you get a chance for redemption, but not in death. You don't get to "bounce back" from that, if you will. You don't get to change your mind, and tell your family you love them. You don't get the chance to look someone in the eyes and tell them how much they mattered. I know it seems pointless to pity the dead, but I pity the living as well, my dear. We never get to tell you that we love you either. We don't get the opportunity to give you one last smile, and we don't get the chance to really state your value to us.

You were a brilliant woman, Caitlin Todd. It's a shame to see you leave us.

With admiration and adoration,

Dr. Donald Mallard (or rather, for you, Ducky)


End file.
